


Following the Drum

by sharedwithyou



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angstangstangst, Dark, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Oral Sex, Original Character Death(s), Sex Work, Suicidal Thoughts, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:16:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27189190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharedwithyou/pseuds/sharedwithyou
Summary: Inspired by Harlots soundtrack Following the DrumWarning: Dark/DepressingLovely (reader) is a harlot and Cole wants to save her.
Relationships: Cole (Dragon Age) & Reader, Cole (Dragon Age)/Reader, Cole (Dragon Age)/You
Comments: 17
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DysfunctionalDevilry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DysfunctionalDevilry/gifts).



> Dedicated to DysfunctionalDevilry because she wrote Cole so lovely-ly 
> 
> But Dark n angsty Bc it’s me
> 
> Warning: possible triggers 
> 
> Reader is a harlot and Cole wants to save her
> 
> Leave me a comment if you liked!!
> 
> Xoxo 
> 
> Bucky the Angstmaster

"No weapons."

He looked at you, curious. You interpreted it as refusal.

"My clients, my rules."

He kept his hands by his sides, making no move to draw or discard them.

"Did you hear me?" Normally you'd ignore him and move on to the next, but he was handsome. And appeared non-aggressive. Two of your weaknesses.

"You can keep your knives with me, sugar." Ginger crooned. She usually had the pick of the litter, as the youngest of the group. Even so, she'd do her best to pry away whoever you showed the least bit of interest to. "Maybe I'll even let you play with them, if you're good."

You'd resent her for both her beauty and her pettiness if you didn't feel sorry for her.

You don't get ahead in this business by making enemies.

You don't stay alive, either.

But you had no blood lust today. So you smirked and played along. "I think she likes you. You'd better snap her up before someone else does."

A couple of men grumbled, and you saw Sam reach for his sword. A precaution only; he'd never had to spill blood to keep anyone in line. The girls or the men.

"You." The young man finally spoke. He removed his daggers and handed them over. You couldn't help letting out a small smile, as Ginger glowered.

"30 gold," Sam announced. You exchanged a surprised look with another girl, Lola. He was up-selling and not by a small margin.

The handsome blonde merely nodded and handed over a small sack. Sam looked inside and grinned. "Alice, take this man up to the Aphrodite suite."

You nodded and reached out your hand, but he shook his head and motioned for you to lead the way. 

_ Once I slept on a feather bed _

_ With blankets wool and warm _

In the room, you placed his knives gently on the bedside table. You knew better than to toss them in the corner; some men valued their weapons more than women. Literally.

"Anything you have in mind, love?" Normally the men would have made a move right now, or even have you in their desired position. But he was shy. He stood by the still-open doorway and continued looking at you.

Perhaps he wanted you to tease him first; a welcome surprise from the typical aggressive patron. So you gave him a winsome smile pulled off a glove one finger at a time.

He stared at you blankly and you tried not to show your disappointment. Perhaps you were getting too old for this business. One of your regulars had said as much, offering to buy you out for half what Sam was asking. As a courtesy to one of his most loyal employees, Sam was considering it; but only if you made twice what you usually did for four consecutive months.

There were only two weeks left, and you were about ready to give up. Twice the money meant twice the customers, and that you could no longer afford to be choosy. You wondered if the filth you'd felt for the last three and a half months could be cleansed by a mostly secure future with an old man. Each day you were less and less sure.

But for now, you had a good-looking John to charm.

"Has anyone seen Cole?"

"Last I saw he was entering a brothel."

"And just how many drinks have you had?"

"Only eight."

Well, two gloves and two stockings later he was still at the door. Except now he was keeping one eye down the hall.

Why was this man even here? Unless...

You sprinted to the table and grabbed the daggers, pointing them at him. "If you're with Leo and you're trying to hone in on our business I'll cut your throat. Nobody messes with Sam and gets away with it."

He finally spoke. "The man who broke in and killed your friend?"

"That's right. I still owe him one for Daisy." You slid one foot forward, the way your father taught you, and sliced expertly.

You shrieked when you hit nothing besides air. He was gone.

"Keep it down, Alice!" Lola yelled from another room, annoyed that you were disturbing them.

You backed away into a corner, so you'd have eyes on the whole room. You didn't believe in ghosts- this must be some kind of elf sorcery.

"You're fast." The man reappeared beside you, disarmed you quickly, and sat down on the bed.

"What- who- are you?" You sputtered.

He smiled softly. "I'm Cole. And you're (y/n)."

"And where were you off to tonight, demon?"

"A brothel."

Sera spat out her beer and cackled. "Well how about that. I guess even a spirit has needs."

"No. She needed me."

When you finally walked downstairs again, Sam was waiting. "Welcome back, my star lady. Where's your new friend?"

"He went out the window."

Sam laughed raucously. "Afraid his wife would catch him, eh?"

"Something like that."

"Strange tip to leave, but as always, it's yours to keep." Sam was always proud of his generosity. He didn't pay you much, but anything the men left was yours. Even if it was by accident.

You pulled the cloak around you and nodded. "So how close am I to the goal now?"

Sam looked away, and you were taken aback; he never showed any sign of insecurity. When he finally spoke, his voice was low. "Your buyer backed out."

You felt your heart sink, almost lower than when you found your father's body encased in ice. Just an unfortunate collateral between Templars and Mages. And now you, just an unfortunate collateral between a man and his indecision. You felt your knees buckle, but you would not fall. Not after you begged your knees for your neighbors to take you in and they slammed the door in your face. The only thing that could bring you to your knees now was enough money paid by the right man. And never for more than half an hour. 

"I see."

He sighed and pointed to a pouch on the table. "You can have the rest of the week off. Don't let me see you again until Monday."

You knew this was the closest he'd come to saying he was sorry. You picked up the pouch and walked out the door. "I'll be back." That was the closest you'd come to saying thank you.

_ Now I'm glad to lay my head _

_ On a cloak that's old and torn _

With your chest heaving, you finally made it up to the large iron gate. "E-excuse me?"

"Who goes there? State your business." A loud booming voice seemed to come from every direction.

"I-I'm looking for someone? H-his name is Cole."

"We don't have a Cole here. Move along." The gate came crashing down inches above your head. You gasped and rolled under, envisioning the metal poles impaling you to death.

"Stop it, Sera." You heard a familiar voice, though much more annoyed than before.

"Oh, lighten up. It wouldn't have squished her." You looked back to see the gate, still inches above where you stood before. And a blonde elf, crossing her eyes at you. "So you're the harlot. Hmm, pretty."

"Shut up." This time the voice was furious. You felt an arm around your waist before you were whisked away.

"Sorry about that." The arm around your waist materialized, as did the rest of the handsome man.

"It's alright. I'm used to it."

He looked at you, appalled. "The almost dying?"

"Well, sometimes. But mostly getting called harlot."

He patted your head, a surprisingly adorable gesture. "They're not all as mean as her."

You let out a dry laugh. "You brought daggers into a bedroom. I'm not sure you're one to judge."

He crossed his arms. "That was for your protection. And I gave them to you."

"To be fair you took them back." 

He immediately pulled them out and you jumped away. He flipped them so the handles pointed to you. "You can have them, if you want."

You raised your brows. You were so used to banter; seeing someone take your words at face value felt strange. Strange, but nice.

He reached forward and slipped the knives into the pockets of the cloak he'd given to you. "So you've run away."

You chuckled at his innocence. It was incredibly endearing. "I have this week off."

"Harlots get time off?" Sera wandered over and joined the conversation.

"Go away." Cole growled.

"It's alright." Compared to Ginger, this elf was a peach. "We do, if they trust we won't run off."

"Why wouldn't you?" Cole asked, perplexed.

You laughed, bitterly this time. Amateur move, but you couldn’t help it. Maybe you really were losing your touch. “They always find you. Unless you're dead. And if you're not, you'll wish you were."

"Yikes." Sera looked at you apologetically.

"Oh, being a harlot isn't bad." You reasoned. "Warm bed, full stomachs, interesting people." You winked at Cole when you said it, but he didn't smile.

"But they make you do things."

"Things that wives do for free," you offered.

"That's the spirit." Sera cheered, before backing away. This conversation was a bit too candid for her.

Cole made sure she was gone, before pushing you onto a bench and leaning in. You readied yourself for a kiss, but he whispered instead. "You don't have to pretend."

"Hmm?"

"You don't have to pretend that you're happy when you're not."

You rolled your eyes. "No one's happy all the time."

"But when they're not, they don't pretend."

You frowned, annoyed at his naivety. "Anyone who earns wages does it. No one wants to see what's real. And trust me, no one wants a sad whore."

"I do."

Your eyes widened, and you blushed for the first time in a long while. "You must be the sweetest John to ever grace our world."

He shook his head fiercely. "I hate your world.

I only went for you."

You leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. He stayed perfectly still. You reached under his shirt to find the buttons on his trousers, and he pushed you away.

"Don't worry. I won't charge you." You reassured him.

"I don't want that." He looked at you with disappointment.

"You came to a brothel to find me," you replied defensively. "You ask me to come to you, and I did. And now you say you don't want me? What kind of game are you trying to play?"

"I want you to be happy," he replied simply.

You looked at him in exasperation. "I am!"

He glared at you. "Don't lie."

You exhaled deeply. "I'm not."

"You are."

What were you even doing here? He'd enchanted you earlier, saying he knew who you were. You'd believed him, because no one else knew your real name, no one alive. No one besides Father, Mother, and Daisy. He said he was friends with Daisy, and he'd come to take care of you after she died. He had told you where to find him, and to go see him when you were ready.

"Ready to leave, not ready to sleep with me."

You gaped at him. "Is that another one of your tricks, like disappearing? Reading minds?"

"I don't read minds. I feel things."

"You what?"

"Sadness, pain, fear - I sense them. From others."

"Okay..."

"Yours is very loud."

Well, this night had taken a weird turn. I guess there’s no such thing as a golden goose. A sane, golden goose.

“You’re scared of me.”

You’d trained yourself not to show weakness. “I’m not.”

He glared at you. “Don’t lie to me!”

You stood up abruptly. He may be sweet at times, but a client was a client. And you’d earned the right to say no. “It’s late. I’m leaving.”

“To where?” His voice had lost its edge. “Sam told you not to come back.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You were eavesdropping.”

“Listening.”

“I don’t need a stalker.”

He raised his voice again, frustrated. “I’m trying to take care of you.”

You scoffed. “I can take care of myself.”

He tried to speak meekly, but his next words cut you to pieces. “How? You need men for money. You need Sam for protection. Without them you’re nothing.”

You felt your breath hitch and your chest ache, but if you couldn’t afford freedom you sure as hell couldn’t afford tears. “You’re not the first man to call me worthless. And you won’t be the last.”

He stood up quickly and tried to close the distance between the two of you. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Don’t come near me or the girls. If I see you at the brothel again, I’ll hurt you.”

He sprinted towards you, so you threw the knives at him, followed by the cloak. Then you ran as fast as you could.

“Way to be a dick, Cole.”

“It wasn’t on purpose.”

“I hope she kicks your ass.”

“I would let her.”

By the time you made it to the city, your eyes were starting to shut on their own. You quickly made it to the inn where you’d feel safe. The innkeeper’s wife was Lola’s cousin, and she gave harlots a discount.

You were glad to have a room to yourself for a few days. No one would pinch your lipstick while you were using it or brag about their new beau. The former was annoying, but the later was heartbreaking. Nobody wanted a harlot for long; if you can put a price on it, it’s no longer valuable. 

And who could blame them? Even the most experienced prostitute could forget the most basic rule and fall head over heels. Case in point, yourself and Captain Feelings. 

Not all men are trash. But no gentleman would go to a whorehouse.

You shut your eyes and hoped for a dreamless sleep.

When you returned to Sam the following week, you were back to your old self. The crushing defeat of the withdrawn offer and being called worthless had become just another ugly memory to add the to collection.

“Good to see that smile again, Alice.”

“Don’t tell me you missed me,” you teased.

“For myself I can’t say, but there was many a man who came looking.”

You giggled, before a dark thought popped up. “No one with an enormous hat came in right?”

He snickered. “Oh you mean Sir Tips-with-cloak? Nope, hasn’t been in since you blew his mind.”

You shuddered at the mental image. “If he comes by again, don’t let him in.”

“Oh?” Sam needed a good reason to refuse a customer. After all, even if you didn’t want him another girl might.

“Yeah, he’s a real freak. Stalker. Told me he knew Daisy.”

“Say no more.” Daisy was Sam’s favorite; he’d burnt down Leo’s house with his brother inside when he found out what happened. “Now, get in line.”

“Where’s Varric? It’s his turn to deal?”

“Who cares? I actually might win this time. Also I think I saw him heading down to the brothel.”

“How many drinks have you had?”

“Only seven!”

You surveyed the group of men carefully, checking for weapons.

“Ooh I’ve never done it with a dwarf before!” Ginger purred at the man who smiled back with mischievous eyes. 

“That’s the lie of the century,” Lola murmured but you were too much of a professional to laugh.

“I’d like her, please.” He pointed at you and you fluttered your lashes and preened. You hazarded that was his style, and he rewarded you with a big grin.

“Excellent choice! 40 gold.”

“Hmm, that’s seems pricey. My friend only paid 30.”

You and Sam exchanged a look. The last time he’d charged that price was...

Sam drew his sword a second too late as the dwarf pointed a crossbow at you. “Sorry, Lady, but you got an admirer.”

“You do know who’s business you’re threatening right?” You asked fearlessly.

“I’m not here to disturb the peace,” the dwarf drawled. “I just want a fair price. So, 30 gold and she comes with me. Alright?”

Sam looked at you for confirmation, and you nodded. Better to keep the others safe. Maybe you couldn’t take care of yourself but you could protect the people you care about.

“Fine. Leave the money and get out.” Sam snarled. 

“Already on my way.” The dwarf tossed a bag of coins at him, and offered you his arm. You took it without batting an eye.

When you walked past Sam you tripped and he helped you up. “Take care of the girls for me,” you whispered.

The wind was harsh outside and you shivered uncontrollably. “I knew I should’ve asked Solas to come. He’d use a fire spell to keep us warm,” the dwarf complained.

“There’s an inn at the end of the road. We can go there.” You weren’t keen on keeping them in the city, but if you tried to escape mid-journey you might not make it back alive. 

“You’re cold.” Cole stepped out of the shadows with the cloak he’d given you that you’d subsequently returned angrily.

“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth.

He stepped forward and wrapped it around you, and you were too tired to resist. You were tired of everything.

“I’ll take her to the inn. You can go back.”

“Okay. Stay safe, kid.” The dwarf patted him on the head, and you flashed back to that same gesture Cole had given you. 

“I will. Thank you, Varric.” Cole replied sincerely.

“Sorry again,” Varric called out to you and it seemed genuine. Not that it mattered. 

“Come (y/n).” The two of you trudged your way to the inn.

Lola’s cousin was surprised to see you, but offered the same room free of charge. Sam had probably sent word ahead; he knew what you were planning.

“I’m sorry.” Cole said softly as you closed the door.

About what? Practically kidnapping me? You thought to yourself, but figured it would do no good to antagonize him.

“I wanted to see you again.” He implored.

“Well here I am.”

“I wanted to tell you so many things.”

You wanted to be brave, but knew if you tried to fight you’d only lose. You steeled yourself. “May I have something to drink? It might help warm me up.”

He looked at you apprehensively. “I’ll get it. Please don’t run.”

“I won’t.” You declared. “I know you’d find me.”

He shook his head adamantly. “I’m not like them.”

Your stupid heart couldn’t help softening at his crestfallen look.

As if on cue, Lola’s cousin knocked on the door. “Two beers to take the edge off!” You heard the mugs clink as she set them down.

You raised an eyebrow as if to ask for permission, and he nodded. You opened the door and brought in the drinks.

“I don’t like alcohol.”

“I didn’t either, but it grows on you.”

“You drink to forget. To numb. To escape. But it comes back. No matter what.”

You raised a glass. “Well cheers to that.”

You drained it dry. “So what now?”

“Are you ready? To leave them?”

You sneered. It was unlike you, but understandable given the circumstances. “And go where? You said so yourself. I have no money, no protection. I am nothing.”

“Have.” He corrected you. “You have nothing. But I could give them to you.”

“At what cost to me?”

“You don’t understand.” The frustration crept into his voice. “I don’t want anything from you. I just want you to stop hurting.”

You laughed harshly. “Everybody wants something.”

“I don’t!” His voice rose.

“Are you sure?” You stood up and undid your bodice, expertly. “You don’t want this?”

“No.” He replied staunchly.

“Or this?” You unhooked your corset, in the dance you were so used to.

“No.” He refused, but you heard a slight waver in his voice, the sign you’d grown accustomed to searching for.

“Or this?” You slipped your panties down your legs slowly and deliberately, the way that could bring a grown man to his knees.

“Stop.” He turned away as a redness creeped into his face.

You walked over to him and pulled his hand to your chest, letting it rest on top of your breast. “This?”

“Stop!” He pulled his hand off and backed away. You remembered how he’d tried to close the distance in that courtyard; you’d do the same now.

“Yes, the courtyard. In the fortress. You’ll be safe there.”

His words threw you off; you’d forgotten he had that weird magic.

“It’s the Inquisition. Nobody will dare steal you away.”

Your jaw dropped. You’d thought it couldn’t get worse. “You’re with the Inquisition?”

“Yes.”

“Is that why you can do...what you do?”

He looked at you, questioning. “I don’t understand.”

You sat down heavily. “Your power. You can feel...others?”

“Yes!” He spoke excitedly, since you were beginning to learn. “I can hear them. When they’re sad. Angry. Hurt. I heard Daisy. And now I hear you.”

You let your hands drop limply to your sides. “You can hear my thoughts.”

“Yes. Loud.” He looked at you earnestly. “Crying. Sobbing. Screaming. Too loud. I wanted it to stop.”

You closed your eyes. “What exactly are you?”

“I’m the spirit of Compassion.”

You spoke to the darkness. “That’s why you found me.”

“Yes. I wanted to silence the pain.”

“Did you do that for Daisy?”

He let out a sigh. “I couldn’t.”

You opened your eyes. “Why not?”

“Daisy wanted to be free. So she fought that man. Even though she knew he’d win. He’d win and punish her.”

You clenched your fists.

“Daisy wanted to die.”

“Shut up!” You screamed, rushing forward to get the second glass.

“Alcohol won’t make it less true.” He stated sorrowfully. 

“That’s not what it’s for.” Your voice dropped to a whisper. You hated it, but he was right.

This was a shit life.

He squinted now, as if he were the one hurting. Who knows, maybe he was. “Louder. It’s louder. Too many voices overlapping. They’re arguing with each other. Do it. Don’t do it.”

You chuckled hollowly. “Which one is winning?”

He held his head between his hands. “It hurts. Everything hurts. Make it stop. Make it stop!”

Those were the words of your very soul.

You closed your eyes, and remembered Daisy. Brown hair down to her shoulders, green eyes that shined in happiness and in tears. Skin pale and smooth as cream, but bruised easily.

You raised the glass and toasted the beautiful woman you missed with all your heart.

“The voices howl, do it! Don’t listen to them. Don’t listen!”

He lifted his head and saw you lifting the beer in the air.

“STOP!”

He leapt forward and tackled you, knocking the drink out of your hand. You laid together on the floor and watched it pool, leaving gleaming streaks of black.

“Why, (y/n)?” He murmured into your neck.

“All of it. It’s too much to bear.” You whispered.

“That poison, it was meant for me.”

You breathed shallowly. “You knew?”

“I saw Sam slip it in your boot when you pretended to fall.”

“But you still let me put it in your cup.”

He put his hand on the small of your back and turned you towards him. “I knew you wouldn’t let me drink it.”

You looked away, like Sam had when he hated the truth. “You’re with the Inquisition. They would kill us all.”

Cole stroked your hair gently. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” You hated when he said that. Even when it was true. Especially because it was true.

“You don’t lash out, you don’t explode. You couldn’t hurt a soul. You just bury it deep inside. And it’s rotting you from the inside out.”

Your voice came out small. “There’s too much pain in the world. I don’t want to cause any more.”

“Then don’t die.” His lips were on your ear.“Stay. For your friends. For yourself.

For me.”

You curled up in a ball, and for the first time in as long as you could remember. 

You cried.

And he held you in his arms.

_So sing with me a merry catch_

_As summer days will come_

_My love, he is a soldier boy_

_So I'm following the drum_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAS I LOVE COLE SO MUCH
> 
> Thank you for reading!! Leave a comment if you enjoyed!
> 
> Quick poll 1: SEQUEL? Let me know if you want a sequel and what you’d like for it to be about !
> 
> Have a lovely week everyone!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Cole love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed to add more Cole sweetness and spice and everything nice.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Any weapons?”

You stared at the recruitment officer in confusion.

“If you don’t have any we will supply them. I’m merely asking in case you have a family heirloom or something you want to keep on your person.”

“She’s a harlot. The only heirloom she has is probably a condom.” One of the soldiers remarked, sniggering.

The officer shot him a stern look, but it was unnecessary. The soldier already had a dagger pressed at his throat.

“Say it again. I dare you.” The soldier turned his neck very slowly and saw Cole glaring at him. He immediately passed out on the spot.

“Ah, you’re Cole’s friend. Go on ahead.” The officer waved you forward with no reaction. One doesn’t get promoted by jumping at every little thing. Like a demon popping up out of nowhere.

“You should’ve come with me.” Cole looked at you, full of concern.

“I had to say goodbye to everyone.” It was harder than you thought it would be. Who knew it would be so difficult to leave a bunch of whores and their pimp? 

But as guarded as you’d been for so many years, they were the only family you’d known.

“I would’ve waited.”

You hadn’t wanted him to see you cry all over again. Once was enough. Honestly, once was too much. “Well I’m here now.”

He continued looking at you, and you looked away. You were used to men ogling at you, drooling over you. Even scrutinizing you to make sure you behaved exactly how they wanted. But his eyes were curious and kind, unlike any you’d ever seen.

“Ah, Miss-“

“Alice.” You could punch Varric in the gut, but that wouldn’t exactly ingratiate you to the Inquisition. So you’d settle with giving him your stage name.

“Again, sorry about earlier.”

“Mhm.” You sure as hell weren’t going to forgive him right away.

“As a peace offering, I got you these.” He handed you a pair of dual-blade daggers, smooth to the touch and light as air. “Finest dwarves craftsmanship there is.”

“...thank you.” The last gift you’d gotten was a pair of silk gloves and that was six months ago from a rich traveler who felt embarrassed at finishing quick; which was really two gifts in one.

“Well I’ll let you two lovebirds get reacquainted.” He patted both you and Cole on the head and wandered off.

“These are better than gloves.” Cole observed quietly.

“Oh great. You’re going to be in my mind all the time now?” The thought of that was way too embarrassing. 

He cocked his head. “It’s natural.”

“Can you stop?” It was a genuine question, not a request.

“No.”

Well that was going to be a problem. Aside from the fact that you were entitled to your own private thoughts, you had a lot of memories that could resurface. Sad ones, terrible ones, disgusting ones.

“Your thoughts won’t scare me away.” Somehow he was assuaging your fears before you could even admit them.

“They’re not pretty.” Your voice shook and you hated how vulnerable you were being.

“They don’t have to be.” He reached forward and gripped your wrist tightly. “You don’t have to be.”

“What do you mean?” You tried to slip one of the daggers into your boot but it was too big.

He pulled the daggers out of your hands and put them on the grass. Then he sat you down softly next to him. “You’re more than your body.”

You try to lighten the mood. “Are you saying I’m ugly?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He let go of your wrist and put his hands on your shoulders to emphasize his point. “What matters is you’re free.”

You blink hard, determined not to let a single tear fall.Instead you use your humor as a suit of armor. “Sounds like a roundabout way of calling me a druffalo.”

“Animals are lovely.” He says with sincerity.

A huge cackle comes from around the corner. 

You giggle as the blonde elf comes out of her hiding place and tries to climb up the wall away from you, landing in a rose bush instead.

“Serves you right,” Cole grumbles.

“I’m actually quite comfy in here,” Sera yells stubbornly.

“It’s time for bed,” Cole asserts and pulls you to your feet.

“But she looks stuck-“

“Bed.” He demands, picking up your daggers and leading you away, all the while Sera whistling in the background.

“This is where you sleep?” Above a bar was a strange location, but if you could fall asleep during an orgy this would be a piece of cake. 

“No, this is where you sleep.” He corrects. He pointed to a pile of blankets on the floor.

“Is this a vetting process for recruits?” Youjest, but even at your lowest you’d had a pile of hay.

“It’s better for your back.” Cole explains. “Try it for a few days.”

“Whatever you want, hon.” You answer automatically.

He puts his hands on his hips. “I’m not one of them.”

“Force of habit.” You feel a bit defensive.

“You’re tired. Sleep.”

You roll your eyes, annoyed that he’s treating you like a child.

“How should I say it then?”

You sigh deeply. “If you’re going to be spying on my thoughts all the time can you at least not respond to them until I bring them up myself?”

“I’ll try.” His solemn face dispels your frustration and sends little tingles to your toes.

“Good. Now turn around. I want to get changed.”

He continues looking at you as you undress. 

“Cole!”

He shrugs. “You do it all the time. In front of anyone.”

“Yes. Because they pay.” You emphasize the last word.

He pats his pockets, not quite understanding, and finding nothing.

“Didn’t you get really uncomfortable last time?”

He coughs and finally averts his eyes. “You were making a big show out of it. It felt...dirty.”

“Oh, you mean like this?” You unlace your corset with delicate snaps of your wrist.

He flushes and turns all the way around.

“What’s the matter? Didn’t you want to watch?” 

He stutters. “I j-just didn’t see w-what the big deal was. A-at first.”

“I guess I could give you a free show. Just this once.” You croon sweetly.

“N-no thanks.”

You stifle a snicker and strip down to your knickers. “All done.”

“Ok- eek!” Cole squeaks and whirls around again. Apparently he draws the line at nipples. 

“Why are you so startled? It’s just breasts.” You are enjoying this way too much.

“Good night!” He vanishes without another word.

You snicker out loud, finally putting on a nightgown and getting comfortable under the blankets.

It’s not the Aphrodite Suite, it’s a hard cold floor. But maybe that’s why you drift off so blissfully.

“I never thought our little Cole would get himself a girl.”

“To be fair, she’ll be with anyone who pays.”

“Yeah but he doesn’t have any money.”

“If I have to hear any more of this drivel I’m going to reveal each of your most embarrassing secrets.”

“...yes Leliana.”

When you finally wake up again the sun is halfway across the sky. Your back is stiff from the ground, but you feel better rested than every night of the last three years combined.

“How’d you sleep?”

Cole is sitting a few feet away, holding a slightly crushed croissant.

You roll over to face him with a smile of contentment. “Very nicely.”

He hands you the croissant. “Here.”

“Thank you.” A bunch of crumbs spill onto the ground as you grab it. You don’t want to complain, but you’re afraid he’d accidentally stepped on it or something.

You don’t need to say anything though.

“I had to swipe it from Iron Bull when he wasn’t looking. He ate the rest.”

You wonder why they’re feeding baked goods to a mount.

“He’s a Qunari. Mercenary. Always hungry.”

“Ah.” You take a nibble of the croissant and make an involuntary sound of appreciation. The crisp is perfect and the butter is fragrant and not too heavy.

The corners of his mouth lift a little. “Your favorite breakfast.”

You want to rebuke him for his constant commentary on your thoughts. But your mouth is full and it’s too delicious.

“So where do I go for training?” You ask in between bites.

“Training?”

“Yes. I’m a little rusty with weapons. Unless a whip counts.” You wink but he shudders at the image. Pain should not be mixed with pleasure. Too confusing.

“You want to fight? Go to battle?”

“I have to contribute, right? Earn my keep?”

He leans forward and brushes a pastry flake off your face. When he speaks, though, there’s a hardness that belies his soft-spoken manner. “No. You’re here to rest.”

“Believe me, battle is a lot less degrading than what I’m used to. I’m perfectly fine getting tossed in the ground for sparring purposes.” You tried not to think about the last time you’d been face-first in the dirt. It was a special request though, so you’d made good money on that.

He grabs your hands in his, squishing the rest of your breakfast into a tight ball. “Never. Again.”

The intensity of his gaze is too much, so you roughly pull your hands away. “I’m strong enough to be a soldier.”

He reaches for your hands again and you back away, uncomfortable with his touch. You’ve long been numb to all the hands and fingers sliding over your skin. You’d preen and bridle like second nature, but the truth was you felt nothing.

Is it because he’s a spirit? Is there a composition of ether and cells that has awakened your nerves again?

“You don’t have to prove your worth.” He implores, wanting you to understand.

“I want to learn to hold my own. To protect myself. Without Sam, without gold, with my strength alone.”

“No.” He states firmly.

You feel your voice rise on its own. “You don’t think I can do it?”

“It doesn’t matter.” His voice rises as well. 

“For heaven’s sakes Cole-“

The rest of your words disappear as he leans forward and presses his lips onto yours. Not hungry, not overpowering, just simple and sweet. “Rest. Please.”

You stuff the rest of the croissant in your mouth in case your mouth betrays you and tries to kiss him again. “Fine. Get me a book or something.”

A small smile crosses his face, so fast that you almost miss it. “Reading is ok. No training.” He gives you a stern look and repeats the first words you’d ever said to him. 

“No weapons.” 

“How’s your girl, Cole?”

“She’s not mine. She’s nobody’s.”

Sera opened her mouth for a scathing retort but a look from Cassandra shushed her.

“You can’t bring her along on the missions, Cole.”

“Why not?” He looked at Cassandra, puzzled.

“It’s not safe.”

“I’ll watch over her.”

“Sorry, kid.” Varric gave him an apologetic look. “She’ll be better protected here.”

Cole lowered his eyes. He looked so melancholic Sera didn’t even make fun of him.

“I don’t want to leave her.”

Sitting in Cole’s, er, attic, you take stock of your current living situation. You definitely want a mattress. And while you’re used to lack of privacy, having at least a wall between you and the general public would be nice. Already two people had drunkenly climbed up looking for an outhouse. Which wouldn’t be upstairs but hey the fact that they didn’t pee on you was good enough.

You wonder if you’ve made the right decision. Sure you’d shared a room with at least two other girls, but at least they’d knock. Usually.

“I have to go.” Case in point. Cole was suddenly in your personal space and looking at you with a unrecognizable expression.

“Where’s my book?” You didn’t feel like going down mingling with strangers. You weren’t ashamed of being a harlot; it had served you well and you weren’t going to look down on yourself for making a living.

But you hadn’t come with him just to get leered at and scorned.

“I have to go.” He didn’t bother answering your question, which irked you.

“Well at least let me make myself useful.”

“Here.” He hands you parchment, a quill and ink.

“You want me to write something for you?” Which makes sense. After all, how would spirits learn to spell?

“Draw.” He says it like a command. You bristle.

“You’re not my boss or my cull. Just because you-“

He interrupts you again with a kiss. It’s chaste and doesn’t move his mouth, but you feel a stirring in your stomach.

“Cole-“

He puts a calloused finger on your lips. “I’m not good at words. But I can make you feel. What I mean.”

You breathe out slowly. You’d gone from hating touch, to enduring it, to ignoring it, until it didn’t bother you. Until you didn’t feel anything at all.

This was uncomfortably real.

“Draw. Like you did when you were a child. It will help.”

“Fine. I’ll try.” You pout, but of course he sees right through it. 

“You’re not annoyed.” He traces his finger along your nose. “So don’t pretend.”

“Stop telling me what to do.” Now you were actually miffed.

He leans forward so his lips were just a hair’s width from yours. “You can say no.”

He closes his eyes and stays still, waiting for your decision.

You want to kiss him so bad. Like there are fairies bottled inside you, swirling glitter in your stomach and raining gold onto your heart. You want to open your mouth and pour the magic into his mouth, feel it tickle your tongues, until it slides down his throat and binds him to you forever. 

The passion is too strong, you’re afraid it will consume you and ruin the only good thing since Daisy, that has inexplicably graced your life.

But you can’t move away. You don’t want to, and even if you did your body would never agree. 

So you lick him. From the corners of his mouth to his Cupid’s bow.

He opens his eyes and raises his brow.

“Too kinky?” You joke, hoping he will say no. Hoping that he won’t shun you.

He sighs and the warm air tickles your face. “It’s new.”

“Well yes, I don’t go around licking men.” Your armored suit of humor surfaces.

“Then it’s only for me.” His tone is grave.

“Alright Cole. Only for you.” You hold his gaze without a hint of a smile but your soul is dancing.

He nods firmly, and walks away. You sit down and test the quill on the corners of the parchment, hoping your face will stop blushing by the time he comes back.

“Watch out!”

Cassandra shouts at Cole as a volley of arrows descend on him.

He dives in between the first three and rolls away from all but one. It hits him in the shoulder and rips through him. 

“Cole!” Varric takes out the ambush archer and rushes over as Cole stumbles and falls.

“What happened?!” Cassandra checks the surroundings, before running over. “Damnit Cole. You’re supposed to be the cautious one.”

“Now’s not the time to criticize!” Varric barks. She narrows her eyes, but doesn’t say anything else. Instead she rips off part of her tunic and wraps it around his shoulder tightly. “We have to take him back.”

Varric nods and lifts Cole back to his feet. As the three of them trudge back to safety, he whispers your name over and over.

“Hey harlot.”

You look up and see Freckles standing awkwardly at the top of the stairs.

“Hey.” You reply, then return to your drawing. Cole had been right; it was relaxing.

“I didn’t mean that as an insult. It’s what you are. Er, were. Nothing wrong with that. I just, yknow, didn’t know your name.”

“Alice.”

“Right. So har- Ah, Alice. The demon got hurt and he won’t shut up. Keeps repeating some other chick’s name. Tough break, by the way. But maybe you can snap him out of it.”

You jump up in alarm, knocking over the ink. You take no notice. “Is he badly injured?”

“Who knows? Go to the infirmary, you can see for yourself.”

She moves aside as you hurry downstairs, ignoring the jeers from a few men, who are quickly shushed by soldiers who know better.

“Alice.” Varric beckons to you, and you make your way through the wounded to him.

“How is he?” You keep your voice steady.

“He’ll be fine,” Varric assures you authoritatively.

“Can I... see him?” You ask apprehensively. 

Varric grins. “Well look who’s getting shy.” You scowl immediately. He merely grins wider and ushers you next to the cot.

“I’ll give you two some space. (Y/n).” He enunciates carefully.

You grab a dagger from Cole’s cloak and point it at him. “Say it again. I dare you.”

He raises his hands in defeat, winking at you. You can’t help grinning back at him. “Don’t worry I can keep a secret.” He walks off whistling. 

“I’m sorry.”

You turn and see Cole sit up, wincing in the process.

“Don’t be.” You sit next to him and motion at him to lie down again.

He shakes his head vehemently, wincing again at the exertion. “Your name. Your secret. It was an accident.”

You put your hand on his chest and slowly push him to lie down again. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”

“I was afraid... that I wouldn’t see you again.” He looks at you with determination. “I’ll be careful now.”

“Good.” You feel tears prick at your eyes and grip the edge of the cot for strength.

“(Y/n).” You were never attached to your given name, but now you couldn’t get enough of it. He repeats it. “(Y/n).”

“Cole?”

“I won’t leave you again.”

You scoot away from him and look around the tent. So many injured, and not everyone would make it. It doesn’t matter where you go, who you are. The world is a fucked up place. How can anyone make a promise like that?

You feel his arms wrap around you gently. You push him away quickly, and he gasps. You look back and see the bloody bandage around his shoulder. “Oh, Cole, I-“

He doesn’t let you finish. His tongue sweeps over your lips softly. “Never again.”

You bite your lip. Not in a feigned sexual manner; in trepidation, in an attempt to keep from embarrassing yourself again.

“Everybody leaves.” Your voice cracks under the weight of your losses. Your parents, Daisy, decades of life you couldn’t get back; innocence and hope that was dragged through the mud.

“I won’t.” His breath caresses your ear, and the warmth spreads all the way through you, every inch of skin tingling because of him. For him.

You gaze at him, your lips parted and images dance through your mind. Your lips running over every inch of him, your hands tugging at his hair, tugging off his clothes. You want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“(Y/n).” His voice is husky and his eyes are full of desire. “We can’t.”

“We can.” You whisper as quietly as your trembling voice can.

“Not here.” He tries to stand up and hisses in pain.

“Here. Anywhere. Everywhere.” You force him back into bed.

“They’ll see!” He protests under his breath.

“If you’re quiet, they won’t even look.”

“(Y/n)-“ any and all words escape him when you reach under his tunic and stroke him gently.

“Shh.” You murmur soothingly as you keep a steady pace.

He grabs your hand in a half-hearted attempt to stop you, but you tighten your grip instead.

“Just relax.”

He tries to respond but his words disappear into a sharp gasp when you take his other hand and slide it under your clothes.

“You didn’t get to touch them last time.” You place his hand on your breast. He tries to pull away, but you hold it there tightly.

“Aren’t they soft?”

He opens his mouth to answer but let’s out a loud moan instead.

You both freeze and look around. Everyone else in the tent is too focused on their own injuries to notice.

“If anything they’ll think that your injury is extra painful,” You whisper with a smirk.

He nods with a shudder. Your toes curl and you bite down on your lip sharply. He looks so good like this. “Should I keep going?”

“Please.” As he utters the word, you feel your knees go weak. You can barely hold in a moan yourself. You pull down his leggings and give him a slow lick across his tip.

He groans and covers his mouth quickly. 

“Only for you.” You whisper with another lick.

“(Y/n)...” he says your name with longing and you feel an aching within you that you’ve never felt before. You just know you want it satiated, so badly. 

“(Y/n)...” his voice is like a siren’s song, you take him all the way in your mouth and suck softly, running your tongue back and forth as he flexes involuntarily.

His hand finally starts moving, slowly wandering over your chest, pausing at your nipples and stroking them softly.

You gasp and accidentally push him further down your throat. You make a choking sound.

He moves his hands to your face and lifts you up slowly, pulling out of your mouth gently.

You make a whining noise and he bites down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood. “I want you so much, Cole.”

He pulls your hair off your face and traces your lips with his finger. “I know. But not like this.”

“Why not?!” You feel your heart shattering. You’ve never been rejected before; you were just that good.

“You’re always pleasing others.”

You stand up abruptly. “Don’t you dare judge me for that.”

In a flash he’s in front of you, his hands on your shoulders, firm but not rough. “I don’t. But I don’t want you on your knees in a crowded tent.”

You feel the tears pricking in your eyes again, and reach for humor to save face. “I thought about setting a fire as a diversion.”

He kisses you, in his Cole way, melting away the anger and hurt. “I want you on soft blankets. In my arms.”

You feel a tear escape from its perpetual prison of your eyes. He licks it away, making a face at the salty taste.

You let out a laugh-sob. “If you think that tastes bad-“

“Never again.” His voice is barely audible, but he speaks as if it’s an oath.

You close the distance between, and rest your head on his chest. “I don’t mind if it’s you.”

“No more ‘don’t mind.’” He kisses your forehead softly. “Only ‘I want.’” He puts his hand under your chin and tilts your head up against his. “If you lie, I’ll know.”

“Fine.” You feel the faeries burst from their bottles. “I want you inside me.”

His breath hitches and he picks you up. In a blink you’re back in the attic. As he puts you on the blankets, he sees the picture you drew. “It’s... me?”

“Do you like it?” You ask nervously, unsure of yourself.

“It’s missing something.” 

“Oh?”

“Draw yourself next to me tomorrow.”

You stick your tongue out at him, trying to hide your giddiness. “I’ll draw whatever I want. You don’t own me.”

“Nobody does. But if you want me...I’m yours.”

Your mouth drops open and you feel as if the world has stopped turning, just for you. So you can have this moment for a bit longer.

“You’re tired. Sleep.” 

You want to protest, but the blankets feel so soft and warm.

“When I’m better...” he trails off, bashful all of a sudden.

You curl up comfortably. “We’ll finish.”

You almost don’t hear the next part, he says it so quietly. But it makes you quiver and beam all at once.

“I’ll make you finish again and again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADVLJHFAGLBGDSG
> 
> LEAVE A COMMENT IF YOU LIKED!
> 
> When Cole says good night!! I imagine it the same tone as when he says goodbye during combat after killing darkspawn. Yum
> 
> I’m really getting into smut, it’s awesome. Have a good weekend lovelies!
> 
> Xoxo Bucky


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